Walk Me Back

Author's Note: Sooo... we were asked to write this eons ago, and I'm sorry for taking so long to write this gift request. *guilty smile* But I did have a lot of fun with it!

To xSkywalker21: There are lots of feelings in this fic, and I made myself cry when writing it, so I really hope that you enjoy! :D

~ Amina Gila


Anakin is in a turmoil as he sits in the Jedi Council chambers, waiting. Waiting for news from Windu. Waiting to hear the inevitable news that Palpatine is dead. This – this isn't what he wants, is it? He doesn't even know anymore. He feels confused, conflicted. The one person he thought he could always trust is the one person who is the biggest traitor of all. Palpatine is a Sith, the Sith, and Anakin hasn't even begun to consider all the ramifications of that.

He wishes that this could all end. He wishes that he didn't have to sit here agonizing over the future. Everything is at stake here, and he's perfectly aware of that. That's why he should have gone with the Jedi Masters to confront and take down Palpatine. It's his duty, his mission, his purpose, if the Jedi prophecy about the Chosen One is to be believed. And here he is, waiting, while the most important battle ever is – or soon will be – fought.

Despite himself, despite the fear and desperation coursing through him, Anakin's thoughts turn to Ahsoka. His – no, she's not his Padawan anymore – his Snips is confronting Maul on Mandalore, and he hasn't heard from her. He doesn't know what's happening with her, if she's alright, if she's been successful. He trained her as best he could, but he isn't very good at trusting in himself. Hopefully, she'll be okay. Anakin would have liked nothing more than to go with her, to reinforce her and ensure that the Sith who has been haunting them, mainly Obi-Wan, for so long is finally brought to justice.

Be okay, he thinks to Ahsoka, even he knows she'll never hear. Please be okay. He wants to ask her to come back to him, but that would be selfish. She made it clear that she didn't want the closeness anymore, or that she at least didn't have time to think about their friendship and them before leaving for Mandalore to deal with Maul. It stung, but Anakin could understand.

And then, a voice – a familiar voice – cuts through his thoughts, whispering into his head via the Force. "You do know, don't you, if the Jedi destroy me, any chance of saving her will be lost," Palpatine warns. Anakin closes his eyes, fighting against tears as he wars with himself. If – if he does this, if he ensures that Palpatine survives the duel, he might have to – no, he doesn't want to think about that right now, but keeping Palpatine alive is the antithesis to everything which he's been taught, which he knows.

If Palpatine is Sidious – oh Force, it makes so much sense; how did he never notice it before? He should have. He spent so much time with him. He should have known that Palpatine's interest was never genuine, that only wanted to use him the way the Jedi have – then it's in everyone's best interests for him to die. Except Anakin's. Because he cannot lose Padme. Not now. They've come so far. They're so close to being able to leave everything behind and start a new life together with their child. That's all he wants right now. He wants his wife safe and alive and breathing. If his family is okay, he doesn't care what happens to everyone else.

Well, he cares, of course, but not nearly as deeply or intensely.

And as Anakin stares out over Coruscant, feeling tears of desperation, of remorse, of pain trickling down his face, he knows what he's going to choose. He's not going to take the chance that Palpatine is killed by Windu. And to ensure such an outcome, he has to hurry.

"I can't do this," he whispers aloud to himself, uncaring as to how broken he sounds. "I can't let her die." I can't let them die. He would do the same, he knows, if it was Obi-Wan or Ahsoka. They're family, and he has long been loyal to his family.

**w**

Ana- No. He's not Anakin anymore. He's Vader. Darth Vader. He's a Sith. He doesn't really feel like one though. He feels lost, broken, even if he can feel the Dark Side humming through his veins, setting him on fire from the inside out. How could ever have resisted its lure? Maybe he shouldn't have. This was always going to be his fate, his ending, wasn't it?

And now, he has his orders. The Jedi committed treason, and they need to be destroyed. They will be destroyed. He has to round up his men and march on the Temple as his master, the Chancellor, commands. But as he flies towards the barracks, another thought worms its way into his mind. Ahsoka. What about Ahsoka? She's not a Jedi, and she could never have been involved in a plot, of course, but will she be alright? Or will the order go out indiscriminately.

Palpatine would never do that to him, would he? If anything, he would ensure that she's safe, like Anakin would want, right?!

It's not a chance An- Vader is willing to take, so he pulls out his commlink, entering Ahsoka's frequency with trembling fingers. She answers almost immediately, voice worried, fearful. He knows that she must have felt him when he reached out to her, through their bond, when he reached the tipping point, when he had to choose between Windu and Palpatine in the Chancellor's office. Vader had no one else to turn to. Ahsoka was the only one who ever stood by him and supported him unfailingly until the end, until she left because the Jedi cast her out.

He needed her, and he reached out to her, letting the distant feel of her bright, glowing presence give him the strength he needed. Ahsoka was, in many ways, like a daughter to him. He raised her, not the same way Obi-Wan raised him, of course, but still. He was more than an older brother for her. And if he failed her, his first child, then he can't make the same mistake twice. He couldn't let things be, knowing that his wife and child would both die. That wasn't – it wasn't something he could endure. It would destroy him. So, he chose, and the ramifications still haven't sunk in. He feels distant, disconnected, cut off from himself as if he's watching his body act without actually controlling it, even though he is.

"Anakin," she greets him, sounding relieved. "What's happening? I felt… something."

Vader closes his eyes briefly, lets her voice wash over him and then steels himself. "The Jedi have committed treason," he tells her, voice numb, dead. "I've been sent to bring it to an end. Afterwards, I'll be going to Mustafar to deal with the Separatist leaders. I know – I know you're not a Jedi, Ahsoka, but I thought I should – I thought you should know." Is she in danger? She shouldn't be, but… He has to make sure. He can't fail her again.

Ahsoka blinks, eyes wide, visibly taken aback. "The Jedi?" she echoes incredulous. "They wouldn't! Why would they do that?"

"Windu tried to kill the Chancellor. I saw him," Vader answers, shaking his head.

She nods, lowering her head. "I'll be alright," she promises, and he feels like she's accepting this far too easily, almost as if she knew, or suspected something. "What about the Sith Master?"

Vader chokes on air, fingers clenching, both on the comm and the steering wheel of his fighter. "Stay safe, Ahsoka," is all he says before disconnecting the call. He didn't know what to say to her, what he even could say to explain the truth. It all seems so incredible, so unreal, even to him, and he's living in the middle of it all.

Ahsoka calls him back. Once. Twice. He ignores her, and then turns off his comm. His – his master would be very displeased if he became distracted in the middle of an important mission such as this. He has to focus. There's a rebellion that needs to be put down.

**w**

Vader doesn't comm Ahsoka again until after he's left Coruscant and is in hyperspace, heading for Mustafar. He needs to know that she's alright, needs to make sure. The galaxy is dark, different, and – and he doesn't know if she's okay. There's too much turmoil for him to sense her. He's always liked travelling through hyperspace because staring at the swirls of white and blue have long given him a sense of peacefulness and calm, the closest to mediation which he can actually get.

Now, it only brings shame and remorse. What has he done? Oh Force, what has he done? He had to – he had to. It was the only way, the only way to save Padme, to save their child. But – but he… he… He killed people. A lot of people. He killed the Jedi. All of them. Any of them who stood in his way. Either they were shot by the clones, or they fell to his blade. His hands are red with their blood, and he can't ever wash it off. That's not – this isn't something he can undo or reverse or…

What has he done?

He knows, of course, the answer to that. The images are burned into his mind, seared into his memory for all eternity. He's shaking, trembling, trying not to give in to the urge to cry. This isn't what he wanted. This isn't even what he thought would happen when he agreed to join Sidious, when he kneeled to him in the Chancellor's office. He had no idea that he would be sent to slaughter the entire Jedi Order: men, women, and children alike as a glorified executioner.

But – but they deserved it. (No, they didn't.)

They were traitors. (Not all of them.)

And he had to do it. He had to, because – because – He's spiraling he realizes, mind running in circles as he shies away from the enormity of what he's done.

Ahsoka doesn't answer him. It feels like she's ignoring him the same way he ignored her earlier. He probably deserves it – is she upset at him? For ignoring her? – but he calls her again. And again. And again. Twelve times in all. There's no answer.

He comms Rex five times, only to receive the same. And then Jesse. Still nothing.

Fear grips his heart in a vice. Where is she? Where are they? Why is no one answering him? Surely, there must be a logical explanation for this that doesn't involve death. And yet, Vader felt how the Force was being shaken apart as so many Jedi died so fast. Ahsoka wasn't one of them; he thinks he would know it, no matter where in the galaxy he or she is, if she died. He didn't feel it… but that doesn't necessarily mean that she's alive. Maybe, during Operation Knightfall, when he closed off his mind and bonds so he wouldn't feel them breaking, she died. It's possible. Could the Force really be that cruel? (Yes, it could be. It took his mother from him when she was in his arms.)

And yet, the thought still incessantly worms its way into his mind. Is she… dead? She can't be gone. It doesn't seem real, and yet, what other explanation does he have? Was there a mistake, perhaps, when the order was given out? Would the clones really have turned her?

… It's not like they had a choice, he realizes bitterly. Palpatine played them all, and he played them well. He didn't even understand, himself, the truth about the inhibitor chips until sometime during the Operation. It was – and still is – too unbelievable, but the Force, murky as it is, rings with the truth of it. But it's the only thing that makes sense, and Vader feels sick at the knowledge that Fives was right. Fives was right, and he was ignored. Maybe none of this would have happened if they'd listened to him.

Vader doesn't want to accept the possibility that Ahsoka is gone, like all the other Jedi. (He can't let himself think about Obi-Wan at all, lest he shatter entirely.) But at the same time, it's the most likely explanation. He doesn't know what happened. He might never know what happened, so all he can do is mourn the loss of yet another person who he failed.

**w**

There's a ripple in the Force, and Vader's head jolts towards the wide window overlooking the landing platform outside the building where the Separatist leaders were hiding. His heartrate speeds up when he realizes who he's feeling. Ahsoka. She's – she's coming here. Why is she coming here?

Numbly, he moves out the door, the hot, dry air of Mustafar hitting him in the face as he waits for her to land. She's not alone. Rex is with her, and they're in a Y-wing fighter. As soon as it touches down, Vader walks towards them, feeling apprehensiveness gnaw at him. She's alive. She's alive, but he doesn't want to see her, not here, not like this. Shame, and a guilt so deep it can't be properly named, burn through him, and he swallows.

Ahsoka leaps out of the fighter, looking dirty, exhausted, and pained, but alive. She's alive. Her expression brightens with relief when she sees him, and he hardly has a chance to brace himself before she's barreling into him, throwing her arms around him and clinging to him. Vader reacts, hugging her back, though the Dark Side still clings to him, thrumming an icy chill through his veins in time with his beating heart. For a wild moment, he wishes he could tear it out – all of it; his heart, the Dark Side, everything – and destroy it, as if that might somehow erase his deeds.

Ahsoka is here. She's real. She's alive.

After having accepted her as presumably dead only hours ago, it feels too good to be true. But she doesn't pull away from him, and he registers that she's trembling. Rex climbs down from the fighter next, helmet under his arm, brown eyes shadowed with pain.

"What happened?" Vader asks, the words spilling out before he can think better of them.

"Palpatine issued the order," Rex answers. "He gave special instructions that… Ahsoka be dealt with." There's a quiet pain in his voice, a thinly veiled anger. "I – she managed to remove my chip, and we escaped."

Vader's stomach drops. "No," he denies instantly, his horror surging and overwhelming him. "He wouldn't. Why would he do that?!" He can't really deny that it happened, not when Ahsoka and Rex are here, looking as if they just barely made it out alive.

"I'm sorry," Ahsoka whispers into his robes, lifting her head finally. Tears are glistening in her eyes. "I'm sorry."

"What for?" Vader asks, resting his hands on her shoulders and meeting her eyes. "It's not your fault that this happened." It's Palpatine's. It's the Jedi's. It's his. His most of all.

Ahsoka shakes her head mutely. "Not – not this, but… Maul – he said something. I – I ignored him." She inhales unsteadily, swallowing, her bright blue eyes dimmed with pain, with grief. "He told me that – that Sidious was… grooming you. I – I didn't want to believe him. I didn't think… it was the truth. But if it's Palpatine… it all makes so much sense."

Vader feels dumbstruck, and he can't get himself to open his mouth or say anything to refute her words. This – none of this makes sense. How could Maul have known? Why would he have told Ahsoka? Why would – no, Palpatine wasn't. He cared. Of course, he cared. He's always helped him. It – why would it matter if he's a Sith? That doesn't reverse the help and advice he's given, that doesn't change how he's been a supportive figure and mentor, even when Obi-Wan wasn't.

Ahsoka reaches up, clasping his wrist with a surprisingly strong grip. "What did he tell you, Anakin?" she demands, pleads really. "What did – what did he have you do?"

His expression closes off. "I did what I had to do to bring justice," he answers, "To bring peace. The Jedi failed the Republic. I think that you and I already knew that, though."

"The Jedi," she continues insistently, "What happened to them?"

Vader glares, not at her, but rather, past her, at the lava flows. "What happens to all traitors," he replies tightly. "They're dead." They're dead, and I helped destroy them. I helped. I – I –

Her expression falls, sorrow pouring into the Force. "Anakin," she whispers, shaking her head. In denial. Rex's face is mostly an emotionless mask, but Vader can feel his dismay, his disbelief. "What – why would you side with Palpatine? When you know he's a Sith?" It's not accusing. It's asking. A genuine question of honest confusion.

He opens and closes his mouth, still feeling oddly speechless, emotions rolling within him, violent and uncontrolled. The Dark Side demands more. More pain. More death. More bloodshed. There is no one left to kill right now. And he needs to control himself. Force, he learned the importance of control years ago. He breathes in slowly, letting it out as he struggles between Darkness and Light, torn asunder. This isn't – he hasn't actually questioned his own actions or motivations like this, because now, he has to actually answer.

"The Jedi betrayed me," he tells her bitterly. "They betrayed us both. I…" he hesitates, unsure if now is really the best time for these revelations, but yet, Ahsoka will never understand why he did what he did if she doesn't know. "I have visions, sometimes," he explains. "I saw Padme dying in childbirth."

Rex starts a little, eyes widening in surprise, though he doesn't otherwise react.

Vader drags his gaze back to Ahsoka. "I can't let that happen. I won't let that happen. The Jedi wouldn't help me. I talked to Yoda," he adds, expression twisting with loathing and disgust. "He told me to let her die. I can't do that. I won't do that." His fists clench, and he struggles to resist the urge to destroy something. It's overwhelming, intoxicating. He snaps back to the present when Ahsoka reaches for him, touching his arm, the Darkness receding.

"You Fell," she says sadly.

Vader clenches his jaw, but he reluctantly jerks a nod. "I had to," he insists. "Palpatine promised me that he knew of a way to save her. I can't live without her."

Realization dawns. "You're… together: you and Padme. And she's going to have a child?"

"Yes," he confirms.

"The timing is not idea," Rex remarks dryly, though there's something uncertain – almost fearful – in his gaze now. "General… did you know? About the chips?" His words are almost accusing, and Vader's stomach drops. He knows why Rex is asking.

"No," he answers, shaking his head. "No, I swear. I didn't realize what was going on until… after it started."

Rex nods stiffly, but Vader doesn't know if he actually believes him, and that stings. "You know he isn't going to save her, don't you?" Ahsoka's voice is gentle, confused, worried. "He's a Sith. He – he can't heal people."

"What if he can?" Vader counters, frustrated. He has one hope, and he's clinging to it as hard as he can. If he was wrong… then all of this was for nothing, and he can't bear that. He can't face that possibility. There's no turning back now.

"Even if he can, would he?" she challenges. "He tried to have me killed." She chokes on the words, tears filling her eyes and spilling down her cheeks. "He made them turn on me, and they're all dead now, because of him." Her voice is shaking, as she sniffs, continuing, "And I – we – buried their bodies after the Star Destroyer crashed. We almost died there. Almost. If not for your training…"

She trails off shaking her head, and Vader finds himself reaching out for her, wrapping his arms around her just to make sure that she's really real. The silence is heavy, stifling, but no one breaks it. "I – I brought you back on Mortis," he remembers. "I know it's possible. I just need to learn how. I – Snips, I can't give up my family like that."

"I'm not asking you to," Ahsoka replies, pulling back to look at him, "But there's another way. I know there is. That's what you always taught me, remember? If there isn't a way, we make one. And I – I don't remember what happened on Mortis exactly, but I thought you used the Daughter's lifeforce?"

Vader blinks at her, unsure what she's getting at. "I did."

"Skyguy, she was the embodiment of the Light Side." He feels frozen, all of a sudden, as if he can't even get air into his lungs. It's – that isn't – no. Ahsoka doesn't stop there, though. She keeps pushing. "If there's any way to stop someone from dying, it'll be in the Temple Archives, probably only available for Council members. Or, it would take a skilled Jedi Master." Grief flickers across her face again. "I don't think there are any left anymore."

"I – I don't understand the Force, sir, but – but I think the Commander is right," Rex offers hesitantly. "It sounds like the Senator should go to a medcenter. If there's something wrong, an experienced medic would know, right?"

Vader opens his mouth, before closing it again and nodding. Yes, that – that makes sense. Except… his visions always happen. They always have, and there's no reason why this would be any different. Only the Force can stop it. Unless he's powerful enough, he won't be able to save Padme; that's why he joined Sidious

"Possibly," he admits, "But – but I saw it. They probably wouldn't be able to stop it. I'm the only one who can. Palpatine promised to teach me the power."

"Will he though?" Ahsoka asks quietly. "He already tried to kill me. Twice."

Twice? He's about to protest that when he remembers her trial and winces. Technically, Palpatine was in charge of the proceedings, but there were so many holes in the "evidence" against her. Tarkin knew Palpatine well, so couldn't the Chancellor have mentioned something confidentially to him? Especially when he knew how much Ahsoka meant to him? Vader understands what she's doing: turning him against Palpatine, but he – he's already losing his trust in the man. Palpatine is Sidious. He's a Sith, the Sith who started everything. If not for Padme, Vader would already be plotting how to eliminate him. He He He already is, actually, but he can't put his plans into motion before Padme's life is saved.

"Anakin, do you really think that he'll help you? What would he even gain? Padme will oppose him. Vocally. If she d-dies –" Ahsoka chokes on the word, "– then he'll be free of one opponent. And don't tell me that you think he deserves to live. He's Sidious! He started this entire war. Everything. All the death, all the destruction… All of it. And Fives…" There's a wounded note in her voice, and Vader swallows hard, letting himself, momentarily, remember the clone trooper who had been one of his best friends.

"The Commander is right, sir," Rex chimes in softly, unshakably, "But I have a suggestion."

"Go ahead," Vader nods, after taking a measured breath to keep himself as calm as is possible with the Dark Side gnawing at him like this.

Rex nods. "Perhaps you should take the Senator to a healer. If there's something wrong which they can't fix, we can wait to destroy Sidious until she's safe and he's weaker. If she's alright… then I don't think we have anything to worry about."

Everything they're saying makes sense, and that's the worst part. When Vader was stuck alone, with only his own thoughts and rationalities, everything seemed so hopeless. But now? It feels like everything will be okay, like everything isn't falling apart even though he's Fallen and a Sith and the Jedi are gone. Ahsoka and Rex care about him. They won't hurt him or let him down, he knows. They never have. He has no reason to doubt them.

Except it's not that simple. If it was, then he did all of this for nothing, and more than anything, he cannot accept that. He cannot accept that he led Operation Knightfall and did everything his new master requested of him for nothing. Sure, the Jedi were traitors, but –

"I can't come back. I can't turn back, Ahsoka. You know that." The words bubble out of him before he can think better of them, even though he instantly wants to pretend that they were never said. He admitted to his deepest insecurities, to the real true reason why he won't simply agree with them and leave. "The things I did…" He shakes his head, looking down, guilt and hatred and revulsion sweeping through him. The Council was right. He is dangerous. He deserves nothing more than to be put down like a rabid animal, but he can't bring himself to say that aloud. He doesn't want to admit that to Ahsoka, to Rex.

"Why can't you come back?" Ahsoka challenges. "I don't know what you've done, but even going along with Sidious is horrible and unforgivable. It's – you… made a mistake which has hurt a lot of people but running away from it and refusing to take responsibility for it won't help." That's his Snips. Always saying what she thinks without mincing words. A wave of fondness sweeps through him, taking the edge off the sting her words cause.

"The Jedi say it's impossible to come back from the Dark Side," he reminds, not even bothering to try and touch the rest of that. The shame will destroy him, but he deserves it. He should feel it, every last bit of it. He can't – he can't bring the dead back to life, but he can at least do what his family wants him to do. Sort of. He has always tried, and he's never been good enough. Ahsoka never made him feel like that though. Nor did Rex. Maybe – maybe if he's with them, if he listens to their advice and suggestions, it will be enough.

Ahsoka snorts, unfazed. "Since when has Anakin Skywalker only done what is expected of him?" Her enunciates each syllable carefully, her unspoken point driven home far more clearly than any argument could have done.

Vader hates that she has a point. It would be easier to argue with her if she was wrong. And maybe she is wrong, but he's always done things that others consider impossible. Why can't this be one of them? Does he want it to be one of them? What if, by doing so, he loses whatever chance he has to save Padme? Would he? Could he? Is it even possible for him to forget how the Dark Side feels, how it responds to his command, even if he lets go of it? So many questions and no answers.

"I – I don't know if I have the strength," he says softly, unable to look at his friends.

"We'll be here with you every step of the way, Skyguy, every step of the way," Ahsoka vows.

"We aren't going anywhere, General," Rex confirms. "We'll stay, and we'll help you destroy Sidious for what he's done."

It isn't that simple. It will never be that simple, but surrounded by the faith and trust which Rex and Ahsoka both have in him, Vader finds that the Dark Side is that much further from his reach. If he reaches out now, he can also sense the faintest glow of the Light, dancing just beyond his grasp. All he has to do is reach for it. It's that simple.

He feels calm, calmer than he felt before anyways, which isn't saying much, all things considered, but the persistent fear which was consuming him is no longer there. His anger is burning still, against himself, as is his hatred, but it's – it's not as bad as before. The Dark Side wreathes around him, hissing and demanding that he take it, that he let it in, that he allow it to consume him entirely. He doesn't. He can't repay such trust by reaching for the Dark again. But he doesn't know what to do, either.

Ahsoka reaches out towards him, slowly, uncertainly, wrapping her arms around him and pulling his head down so their foreheads are touching. "I don't want to lose you," she confesses, "And I'm afraid that I am. You're strong enough to control yourself, Anakin, I know you are. You're stronger than anyone I know. You can come back. You can make amends. Nothing can undo what you've done, but you can make things right. Do it for me, for Rex, for Padme, for your child, for Obi-Wan, even."

Staring into her bright blue eyes, Vader admits, deep in his heart, that she's right. She's right. All these years, Palpatine has been telling him that he's stronger than any other Jedi, that he can be more than them. If he loses control of himself and stays in the Dark, then he'll be proving the Jedi right. More than anything, he doesn't want that. He'll come back to the Light. He'll own up to what he's done. He'll make amends for the rest of his life. He won't grovel or beg for forgiveness, because he doesn't and never will deserve it, but he can – he doesn't have to continue following Palpatine.

Ahsoka and Rex are here. They won't let anything happen to Padme. If they both think that he should take her to a healer first, then he'll do it, because he trusts them. They might not understand his visions or him, but they want to help. He won't begrudge them that, because he's too afraid to listen, too afraid to own up to his actions.

Admitting responsibility for wrongs is one of the first things his mother taught him. (If she saw him now, she would hate him. She would be ashamed of him. He took everything she taught him and threw it away.)

He can – he can do this.

Wrapping his arms around his little sister and hugging her to his chest, Vader reaches out towards the Force, pushing past the darkness which is enveloping and overwhelming everything. He latches onto Ahsoka's Force signature, and she lets him, though he can keenly feel her pain when she senses the extent of his darkness. She is still the same bright light that she was when he first met her, albeit a little more mature and less wild. And Vader fights back against the lure of the Dark, holding onto Ahsoka as a guiding light as he reaches for the Light Side.

For the first time since this nightmarish night – is it still night? He doesn't know anymore; he doesn't know how long it's been since anything happened – began, he can feel the warm, soothing embrace of the Light, and it makes him want to cry, because only now, when the Dark Side isn't clouding his vision and making him delusional, can he fully grasp the enormity of his crimes. He – he –

He can't even bring himself to finish that sentence, and he feels like throwing up. He should die. He deserves to die. They should – someone should put him down. Like an animal. He deserves no less. How could he have done all that?

"It'll be okay," Ahsoka whispers, though she can't know that, and Anakin realizes, with a start, that he's crying. She's crying too, now. He glances over at Rex to see that the clone is standing there stoically. Some pain, he knows, is too deep for tears to soothe.

Anakin reaches out, clasping Rex's shoulder to include him in the moment as much as he can. "I'm sorry," he croaks, talking to them, to the dead, to – to the universe itself. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I don't –" It doesn't fix anything. Regrets never do. They never can.

They're still standing there when an all too familiar ship angles down towards the landing platform, and Anakin's stomach lurches unpleasantly. Why would Padme be coming here? Is – is something wrong? He waits with bated breath while the ramp lowers and Padme walks down. She pauses, obviously surprised, when she sees Ahsoka and Rex there.

But Anakin doesn't care about their presences, so he pulls away from Ahsoka and hurries to Padme, wrapping her in a hug. He shouldn't, he knows, because he doesn't deserve her. He never has. And especially not now, not after everything he's done. "Are you alright?" he asks her, worried instantly, though he struggles to cling to the Light Side. He won't let himself slip back into the Dark unless the power proves to be necessary. "Why are you here?"

"I –" she hesitates, looking at Ahsoka and Rex.

"They know," he assures her. "I told them everything."

She meets his gaze, her brown eyes filled with apprehension and… fear. "I – I talked to Obi-Wan," she answers, "And he told me terrible things."

"Obi-Wan's alive?" Anakin and Ahsoka chorus in unison, Ahsoka with relief, Anakin with… apprehension. He's glad, of course, that his old master is alive, because he doesn't wish him dead, but him being alive also means that they'll inevitable encounter one another again. He doesn't think he'll ever be ready for that. The shame alone would destroy him.

Padme nods, seeming on the verge of an emotional breakdown. "He – he told me that Anakin turned to the Dark Side, that he… killed younglings." Her voice is so quiet that it's almost inaudible, but Anakin knows Ahsoka will hear anyways. Her hearing is sharper than human's is, and if nothing else, she'll pick up on Padme's obvious distress through the Force.

Ahsoka sucks in a breath, and Anakin steps away from his wife, from all of them, curling in on himself, shame and misery smothering him. He – he didn't know what Palpatine would want, and he thought – he thought he had no other way. If Ahsoka and Rex hadn't come here, he doesn't know, or want to know, what might have happened. "Anakin…?" Ahsoka looks at him, eyes begging him to tell her that it's not true.

"If you're going to kill me," he says instead, voice raw with agony, closing his eyes in defeat, "Just do it." He should have known that – that Padme would find out, that Ahsoka would find out. And their rejection is inevitable.

"How?" Ahsoka's voice is strangled. "You – you trained some of them yourself!"

"Orders," he whispers, feeling small and insignificant. "I – I thought it was the only way." He feels the sudden desperation to justify himself, but he can't. He can't offer any excuses because they're just that: excuses. They won't – they won't change anything.

"Ani…" She's horrified he can tell, and that makes it even worse.

"I was trying to save you," Anakin explains, voice unsteady. "Palpatine promised he would show me how. I won't lose you the way I lost my mother. I – I thought if I became more powerful than… any Jedi ever has been or will be, it would be enough to keep you and our child safe."

"All I want is your love," Padme answers, shaking her head. "Don't do this. You're a good person. We can leave. We don't have to stay anymore."

Anakin looks at Ahsoka and Rex, both standing there speechless, before turning back to Padme. "You need to go to a medcenter," he tells her. "I have to know if you'll be okay."

"I'm fine, Anakin!" she protests, frustration leaking into her words.

"You don't know that though!" Anakin cries, his fear flaring out of control. Why will she not listen to him?

"Padme," Ahsoka says, stepping forwards, holding up her hands placatingly, "I think you should go. If Anakin is having visions, it's for a reason. There's no reason not to take precautions. Things have already come this far. It doesn't hurt to be careful."

Thank you, Ahsoka. Why is it that he is always ignored or overlooked, but when his younger sister says something, Padme will actually listen? It doesn't make sense, and it hurts, bitterness slowly swelling within him. Why must he scream to be heard? Why does no one care what he thinks or feels? Why? Is he really so insignificant and unimportant? Now, he can understand it, but Padme's attitude is nothing new. He always ignored it in the past, burying his hurt in the same place he always buried the pain in the aftermath of harsh words or one too many hurtful barbs from Obi-Wan.

Padme nods, conceding. "Fine," she agrees, sounding a little grumpy. "I can go, but I promise you that I'm fine."

Something in the Force shifts, and Anakin's head jerks towards Padme's ship when another person makes himself known. Obi-Wan. Fear clamps him in a vice, and for a moment, raw terror overwhelms him before anger takes its place. "You brought him here to kill me," he accuses, eyes narrowing.

Padme turns, far faster than should be possible for someone who's pregnant, and he can feel her surprise flaring sharply. "What?" Her voice raises in shock. "What are you doing here?!"

Obi-Wan stands there, taking in the scene before he steps forwards. "You should step away from him, Padme."

Anakin panics, backing away, knowing what's probably going to come. Just when he thought he might be able to fix things, properly, with Ahsoka and Rex and Padme, Obi-Wan has to come and ruin it all. The Dark Side surges in response to his distress, cajoling him in seductive whispers to let its power back in. He slams down on his shields, blocking it out, and reaching out to Ahsoka through the Force, clinging to her presence for strength.

She pushes forwards, planting herself firmly in front of Anakin as if she means to protect him from Obi-Wan, if necessary. Rex also steps closer, one hand twitching towards his blaster, though he doesn't actually draw it. He will, Anakin knows, and it breaks his heart all over again to see this loyalty from them after what he did. He wants to die, but not now. Not like this. Never like this. Never at his former master's – his father's – hand.

"Why are you here?" Padme demands, shifting to block Obi-Wan's path and glaring at him. "I never invited you to come with me."

"It was necessary," he answers, unruffled. "You know, now, that he's dangerous. He's a Sith."

"And it's the Jedi's mandate to kill the Sith," Ahsoka concludes. Her body is tense, and she's obviously ready for a fight, though Anakin doesn't know how she would fight when she doesn't even have a lightsaber with her.

Obi-Wan's eyes flick towards her. "Of course. You know that, Ahsoka."

She scoffs. "You've been wrong before," she points out bitterly. "You can be wrong again. You are not passing. You will not touch Anakin. He's not dangerous."

Anakin keeps his mouth closed, because, in truth, he doesn't know that he believes her. He doesn't even know that she believes herself, but her desire to keep him from coming to harm is genuine. She wants to help him. She's convinced that she's capable, and Anakin doesn't want to disappoint her, even though a large part of him thinks that her attempts will be in vain.

"He's not Dark anymore," she continues determinedly. "Falling doesn't forever define one's existence. The Dark Side is a choice, Master Kenobi, and Anakin chose to un-make it."

Some unidentifiable emotion flickers through Obi-Wan's eyes. "That's impossible," he denies.

"Is it?" she challenges. "Do you feel a Sith here in the Force?"

His precious, darling Snips. Determined to protect him to the end, even after knowing what he's done. He – he doesn't deserve her. He deserves her least of everyone. When this is over, he thinks the most appropriate expression of gratitude to her unfailing support would be on his knees. How someone as good and pure as his little sister could have been uninfluenced by something as wretchedly evil as him, he doesn't know.

For the first time, something akin to uncertainty flashes across Obi-Wan's face. He doesn't answer the question though. "You're willing to let him walk free?"

"We're bringing him with us, of course," Rex says quietly. "There's no way he's going back to the Emperor. Ask him yourself."

"Well?" Obi-Wan gives Anakin a pointed look. "Are you planning to run back to your new master and betray everyone here?"

Anakin could lie. He could lie, but it would solve nothing. He has nothing to fear anymore. Obi-Wan is already judging him, already planning to kill him. How much worse could it get? "I will if Padme's life depends on it," he answers steadily. "I'm not letting her – and our child – die."

Obi-Wan frowns. "What do you mean?"

"She's in some sort of danger," Anakin explains. "I've been having visions."

"… You never said anything."

"Why would I?" he demands bitterly. "You don't listen to me, Master. You never listen." The title slips out without him even meaning to say it, and he flinches. He hadn't – that was a mistake. Why did he say that?

Obi-Wan's expression hardens, something cool and distant in his face. "I think," he retorts coldly, "That you and I both know that's not true."

Anakin stiffens, fists clenching, anger and helplessness filling him. "It is true," he growls, the Dark Side nipping at him, pushing past his defenses as it sweeps through him again. So much for that. "You always side with the Council, Master." This time he uses it deliberately, mockingly. "If they tell you something, you obey them to the letter. It's like you're their precious pet or something. Why would I talk to you about anything when you so clearly don't care? Kill him, says the Council, and you march off to do their bidding without a second thought."

He's trembling, breathing heavily, the Dark Side drowning him in its heady power, and he doesn't even care. He's right back to where he started before Ahsoka talked him out of it. Except this time, it's not an all-consuming fear which is driving him; it's pain, anger, hatred, even. He hates that Obi-Wan can be like this: so cold and distant and infuriating. He hates that he's so beneath his old master's notice that he doesn't even blink at the order to come and kill him, but really, what else could he have expected?

Perfect Jedi here. Obi-Wan is really living up to his title and in the worst ways possible.

Anakin – Vader? Is he Vader? – also hates that he can still care so deeply about the man who has hurt him time and again without showing any remorse. Obi-Wan rarely apologizes for his words – or actions – and when he does, it's only because he's said or done something so cutting that Anakin lost control of himself and broke down in front of him. He doesn't think that Obi-Wan ever means anything to be nasty, but…

Force, his old master has absolutely no idea how much he hurts others. Anakin is always acutely aware of things like that. Obi-Wan, not so much. He has literally reduced Anakin to tears, and then asked – with complete, genuine confusion – if something is wrong. Anakin nearly hit him that time.

"Still not a Sith?" Obi-Wan mocks, looking at Ahsoka and raising an eyebrow.

"Shut up!" Ahsoka screams at him, taking everyone by surprise. "You're not helping anything! He was fine before you came out here, so you can march yourself right back from where you came! Now!"

Obi-Wan actually takes a step back at the vitriol and heat in her words, and Vader feels ridiculously smug about how the older man has been rendered speechless.

"Ahsoka is right." Padme's voice is cold, hard, and there's an underlying anger in her words. "No one asked you to come here. He was… better before you came. I think you should leave."

He quirks an eyebrow. "There's not a whole lot of places for me to go."

"Then you can take yourself over the edge of the landing platform," Vader seethes. "I'm sure the lava river down there could use another decoration. Maybe you can use your tongue on it. See how long it takes before your words burn you."

Rex clears his throat, and that sound draws everyone's attention to him. He looks a little… uneasy at having everyone's eyes on him so suddenly, but he stands firm. "It can't be good for the Senator, or any of us, to be here in this atmosphere. Might I suggest that we leave and… discuss all of this later?"

Ahsoka relaxes fractionally. "That is a good idea, Rex." She turns around, looking up at Anakin. "What do you say?"

"I – yes," Vader agrees, nodding, swallowing, "We can leave. But I'm not going anywhere with him." He jabs a finger in Obi-Wan's direction, casting the Jedi Master a brief, wary look.

"He can take a fighter," Ahsoka decides. "You can come with Padme, Rex, and I in her ship."

"Now, hold on –" Obi-Wan begins.

"It's my decision to make, not yours," Padme fires off. "Be glad we're not leaving you here altogether, though I have half a mind to from what you did. If – if Anakin was really as dangerous as you're claiming, do you have any idea how much danger me and the child could have been in with you popping up like that?!"

Obi-Wan has the decency to look abashed at her words. "I apologize. I didn't mean to put you in harm's way."

Padme huffs, waving it off. "If you are really sorry, then you will agree. Take a fighter. Leave. We're taking the ship."

"Where will we go from here?" Ahsoka wants to know, looking between Vader and Padme.

The hurt is still there, still simmering beneath the surface, but it isn't as crippling as it was a moment ago. Vader lets it subside, even though the Dark Side remains. He let go of it once; he can do it again. But right now, he wants to drown in his pain for a little longer. He's so used to burying it that actually being able to feel it, however much it hurts, is freeing somehow.

"Naboo," Vader suggests quietly. "Padme wanted to have the baby on Naboo."

No one protests, so Ahsoka nods. "Naboo it is." She gives Obi-Wan a pointed look. "I'm sure we'll see you there?"

"Yes," he confirms. "I'll be there."

They all part ways after that, and Vader can't even hide the relieved slump of his shoulders when he's safely in Padme's ship, away from Obi-Wan. He hates that he's so… scared of his old master. It's wrong.

No one says anything until they're in hyperspace, blue and white swirls of light filling the cockpit from the viewport. Ahsoka's hand lands on Vader's arm, and he turns his head to look at her. She looks so tired, so… young, so vulnerable, and it's like a dagger to the heart. He reaches out without thinking, pulling her into his arms and resting his chin on top of her head, in between her montrals. Padme's eyes are soft as she watches them, and for a moment, just a moment, Anakin thinks everything will work out. He doesn't know, can't know, but… he has hope. They'll all be okay. All of them. Eventually.

Coming back entirely from the Dark Side won't be easy, but he'll have Ahsoka – and Rex – to help him every step of the way, just like they promised. And Padme will be there too. And – and maybe even Obi-Wan, but Anakin won't let himself hope for that yet.

The hope that suddenly kindles in his heart for the future – their future is soft and fragile and oh, so light. He won't delude himself into thinking that the road ahead will be without pits and traps, but if they walk it together, they can help one another. Because they are, all of them, a family. A messed-up, broken, dysfunctional family, but a family, nevertheless.

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